NOVEL NEXT Chapter 47: The stranger's path
Instantly silence, the room in the North Celestial Lord's domain turned dead silent, with the kind of stillness that leaned heavily on the chest, as every one of them stood before the man, awaiting his further command. Lumina was poised, expression cold and inscrutable as the void, while the other three shifted under the weight of this moment.
The North Celestial Lord raised his hand, and his finger pointed determinately at the red-haired Centric. "Centric," his voice boomed with the weight of his authority, rumbled within the chamber like the peal of a war drum.
Centric came forward, slow and calculated movements; placing his right hand against his chest, he bowed. "Yes, North Celestial Lord," he said in a calm and respectful tone.
"Give me feedback on the task I assigned to you," the North Celestial Lord demanded, his words cold and incisive, like a blade.
"As you please," Centric returned, straightening with a composed air. After a brief moment, he launched into speech. "The reports about your orders were correct: a tide of primordial beasts closes in from the south," he said in a serious and measured tone.
The North Celestial Lord's gaze sharpened as his piercing eyes looked into Centric, who presented the next question. "Have you identified the cause?"
Centric nodded. "Yes, my lord. These beasts are being driven from one of the northern primordial clans located to our south, engaged in relentless hunting. This displacement is forcing the beasts to migrate toward our borders," he said, his tone speaking volumes of effort and danger embarked upon in this mission.
"Very well. Thank you. You may step back," the North Celestial Lord said, his arm flicking aside with an air of authority.
Centric began to retreat but then wavered, his eyes darting briefly toward Lumina before returning to his lord. "Forgive me, my lord, but I have another matter to report," he said, bowing once more.
The North Celestial Lord leaned forward slightly, his presence like a storm gathering force. "Speak," he ordered, his voice a resonant command.
"There is a weirdo that Lumina brought back. I think he has an ulterior motive," Centric said, sharp and swift, as if he wanted to strike where it hurt.
Lumina's eyes snapped to him; an icy gale of a gaze sliced through the room, her face hard, the faintest twitch of a muscle betraying the irritation that simmered. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the North Celestial Lord interjected.
"Is this true, Lumina?" he asked, his tone brooking no evasion.
"Yes, Station Lord," Lumina said calmly, but with an edge of steel. "I was going to cover this in my report. Still, what Centric is suggesting is pure supposition, ill-founded and baseless."
Centric's jaw clenched, but he would not back down. "How can she trust a stranger she barely knows? Please, my lord, allow me to interrogate him," he pressed on, his voice firm with determination.
Lumina's eyes snapped down, her words slicing the air with tempered steel. "What business is it of yours, Centric? Whether I trust him or not is my decision, not yours," she snapped, her voice laced with a biting authority.
"I only hope you exercise sound judgment," Centric replied, bowing stiffly toward the North Celestial Lord.
The other two present, Seraphina and Dunstan, watched this exchange unfold without a word being said, the silence thick with interest. Eventually, the North Celestial Lord turned to them, his brow furrowed in thought. "What are your thoughts, Dunstan? Seraphina?"
Dunstan was quick to answer first, his tone cautious yet honest. "I really don't think that we should jump the gun by labeling him a threat, my lord," he said, lacing his voice with concern.
Before the North Celestial Lord could reply, a voice cut in from behind-a smooth, elegant tone, with an almost divine assurance.
"That is not a problem," said the North Celestial Lord as his voice finally reverberated steadily into the air with an air of finality. His gaze scanned across, chilly and cold, resting for a second or two on every face as if weighing their thoughts. "Since people are urgently needed in dire need of them, let him stay with Lumina. Time will show what comes about with him since time does eventually reveal the truth cloaked in the depths of intentions."
He stepped forward, his boots sounding deliberate and echoing on the granite floor, underscoring with gravity the weight of his words. "However," he added, the tone whetting like as the keenness of a well-whetted blade, "we cannot just let him into our ranks without proving his worth-that would undermine what we are.
The air was tight, like a bowstring pulled full, and then Centric cut through the quiet, his cold, sharp voice carrying the threat of a predator ready to pounce: "Why don't you let me be the judge of his strength?" And with that, a smile creased one corner of his lips, without warmth, as his stare latched on Nyxander with the intensity of a hawk with its prey.
Though ice was cast on her face, there was a tension from the flicker of her thoughts that belied her. "Where is your shame?" she said, whipping through the room like the crack of a whip. "Do you even think things over before tossing them out? A person of your standing-"
But before she could get the words fully untangled, the Hung interrupted, his presence like a sudden storm dissipating a hot argument. "Let's try this from a different angle," he said, his voice metered, as calm as could be, yet fully laced with undeniable authority. "Since he is going to be part of your team, we cannot take out the likelihood of favoritism. We'll let Centric himself select one of his subordinates to spar with him."
The words hit home, and the weight of them settled upon a silent room. Centric's lips parted in a short, self-assured smile, a silent challenge shot at Lumina. Her face showed nothing, but her mind raged like a tempest, trying to comprehend the situation unfolding before her.
The moment was broken by Hung's voice, his tone announcing the end of the matter. "Now, let us move on to the next report," he said, stepping back to stand behind the North Celestial Lord-his place at the leader's right side a reflection of his steadfast loyalty.
The tension in the room relaxed a bit, but there was still the undertone of competition and the unspoken defiance hanging like a threatening storm that foretold the trials ahead.
Meanwhile, at the Aqua Station, It came buzzing, complicatedly woven as a tapestry of life-giving humanity bursting into frantic but chaotic harmony. It was little the straightforward outpost of military interest but an actively thriving microcosm, an advantageous state within a great empire's heart.
Nyxander walked down the paved road, his head swiveling like a weather vane caught in a sudden gale as his eyes darted from one scene to the next, wide with wonder at the great variety of people: hurrying merchants and hardened warriors, lively street vendors, all caught up in their own stories. To either side of the road, an eclectic array of buildings stretched toward the horizon, each serving a different purpose.
A spark of wonder lit his features as he muttered to himself in awe, "Wow. That many people actually are hidden behind station walls. Businesses, too-all kinds. I swear, an entire city could be hiding."
Nyxander felt his curiosity take him from one market stall to another, crossing with such vigor that amused glances followed him. Fingers brushed over fabrics dyed in vibrant hues, weapons with intricate engravings, and vials filled with mysterious glowing liquids. He was enthralled with the fruits with strange pulsating patterns and the gemstones softly humming with latent energy.
A few paces aft of these, Beorn strode patiently behind them, his face tolerating and amused with Nyxander acting out the novelty of this scene.
Finally, Nyxander turned to Beorn, his brow furrowed in a mix of awe and confusion. "Wait a minute. I thought the station was strictly for military personnel. So why are there merchants and civilians here?" His tone had an edge of disbelief, his wide eyes still betraying the wonder that lingered.
Beorn smiled, his tone steady and explanatory, like a tutor guiding a curious student. The station mainly deals with external threats: hunting primordial beasts or fending off aggression. These people, however, are here for a variety of reasons. Some are rogue fighters, adventurers who hunt primordial beasts for profit or glory. Others are merchants who buy beast parts as raw materials for crafting or trade. Then there are the caterers and shop owners, sustaining the station's populace with their food and goods.
As they walked, Beorn's explanation wove a richer understanding of the station's purpose, painting it as a living, breathing ecosystem where survival and commerce intertwined.
Nyxander nodded, processing this information, but hadn't lost interest. "By the way," he said suddenly, his eyes going dreamy, as if remembering a shard of memory. "Who were those guys we saw back at the Aether Glide garage? The ones that looked ready to kill someone with a glance?